


Pardon Our Ectoplasm

by ShinobiCyrus



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: (and make money off of it), Amity Park (Danny Phantom), Amity Park Is Strange (Danny Phantom), Christmas Shopping, Christmas fic, Minor Character(s), Visit Scenic Amity Park, humans can adapt to pretty muich otherthing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinobiCyrus/pseuds/ShinobiCyrus
Summary: This is what Wes gets for procrastinating his Christmas Shopping.Stuck in the mall three days before Christmas, with Kwan, Dale, and Dash of all people, trying to find stores that weren't out of stock or recovering from some ghost attack.At this point he was almost desperate enough to check out the dumb booth full of ghost merchandise Foley had set up....oh hell, he was going to have to buy something from Foley's dumb ghost-merchandise booth, wasn't he?
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	Pardon Our Ectoplasm

**Author's Note:**

> In this Christmas Truce Secret Santa gift, 'anemptymorgue' asked for something "humorous to do with Amity Park’s general citizens and their relationship with ghosts."

This, Wes berated himself, is why you didn’t do last-minute Christmas shopping in Amity. “But you _can’t_ be sold out!”

The blue-shirted associate - Neil, according to his name tag- shrugged. “Sorry sir; we’re technically not sold out- we’re out of stock.”

“What’s the difference?!”

“One has us selling things like a normal store, and the other one is that cyber ghost popping through the ceiling and making our inventory attack people like it was the machine uprising.” 

Another associate sweeping up broken and scorched plastic added, “Only instead of killer robots it was iPads and overpriced HDMI cables.”

“The cyber ghost?” Kwan piped up behind Wes. “Which one is that?”

“Yeah, y’know…the cyber ghost?” At their blank expression, Neil pressed. “Come on: green skin, lab coat, lame shades? Has that shrieky voice that sounds like that one dude?”

Wes glanced back at Kwan, Dash, and Dale, who all shrugged. 

“Wait, Terry would totally know this. He’s a big Ecto-Fanboy.” He called across the store, loud and echoing with nothing but empty shelves between them. “Hey Tere! What was the name of that ghost yesterday! The techie one?”

“You mean _Technus_?” someone across the store hollered back. “How do you _forget_ that? He talks in the third person! He was constantly telling people his name. The _first_ thing he said was ‘It is I, Technus, Master of Machines and all that goes beep-boop!’ He did it in that weird Gilbert Gottfried kinda voice.”

Neil snapped his fingers. “Gilbert Gottfried, _that_ was it!” 

The guy sweeping grumbled. “It’s still lame the company won’t reimburse me for my phone. We sell electronics, how hard would that be to replace!”

“You’re just mad because your phone tried to kill you while you were filming.” He staged whispered to Wes and the other jocks. “He has a total gay hero-crush on Danny Phantom. Got a t-shirt and everything.” 

“I told you he’s a _ghost_ it doesn’t count!”

“Ha-ha, oh man, how lame,” Dash said unconvincingly and conspicuously zipped up his jacket.

“So yeah,” Neil resumed. “We’re still cleaning up after yesterday and waiting for the insurance company to deny our ghost-damage claim because corporate is stupid and doesn’t get local insurance, so I guess we’ll be open in like…a week?”

Wes stared at him. “Christmas is in three days.”

Dale looked around the wrecked store. “Why are you guys even open, anyway?”

“We’re not, someone left the door unlocked and you guys didn’t read the sign,” Neil pointed to the whiteboard at his right with a cartoon ghost in a janitor’s smock with a notice: ‘ ~~18~~ 0 DAYS SINCE A GHOST ATTACK’ and ‘CLOSED FOR REPAIRS.’

“That ghost-janitor is misleading.” Wes said.

“The mop-ghost comes in at midnight!” Terry yelled. 

“Yeah so like.” Neil shrugged with that special college-graduate apathy from not being paid nearly enough to really care.“Happy Holidays and also please get out.”

* * *

“Do you think there’s like, a Ghost of Christmas Past like in a Christmas Carol?” Kwan wondered. “I love the Muppet version- my family watches it every year.”

Wes looked around the crowded mall, every shop bursting at the seams with last-minute shoppers. ”I don’t know, but my Christmas Future is looking pretty bleak.”

Kwan nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s the one who shows Scrooge Tiny Tim-Kermit’s grave.”

“Stellar contribution as always, Kwan.”

It was kind of funny how people learned to live with natural disasters. LA had earthquakes, Florida had hurricanes, Texas _also_ had earthquakes but that was sort of their own fault for letting oil companies frack wherever they wanted.

And Amity, of course, had ghosts. 

After the first few years of panicking, people moving out of town, or electing some d-bag billionaire mayor with an “anti-ghost platform,” before long people just sort of got used to a ghost having a tantrum, attacking the school, or trying to take over the world in some convoluted plot involving New Age music. 

Except for needing to visit a psychiatrist, no one was ever really _hurt_ by ghosts, and- even though it killed Wes to think it- Danny Phantom was usually there to keep things from getting out of hand. 

It still made doing normal things like Christmas shopping a pain, sometimes. You knew you were in Amity Park when the underwear models shared ad space right next to a caricature of the Box Ghost throwing Christmas packages off the back of a delivery truck to warn passersby: _‘Don’t Risk It. Shop Locally!’_

“You seem more pissy than usual, lately,” Dash noted. “I thought only Fenton was the Grinchy one during Christmas.”

Dale raised an eyebrow. “Just ‘Fenton’?”

“It’s Winter Break, I’m on vacation from bullying until January.” 

“I’m with my mom this year, for Christmas.” Wes cringed. “The whole magic of the season sort of got spoiled when my parents announced they were getting a divorce at the _family Christmas dinner_. I mean, who does that?”

“Do you need a hug?” Kwan asked sincerely. 

“N-no!” Wes shot a slightly panicked look at Dash and Dale, who had gotten distracted by something across the food court. “…maybe later.” He added with a low voice.

“Hey, it’s the girls!” Dash strutted up to Paulina, Star, and Tiffanie, seated at a table surrounded by shopping bags from stores all over the mall. On the wall above them, a sign with the Lunch Lady’s silhouette warned people to eat at their own risk. “Hey ladies, what brings you three here?”

Paulina raised a perfectly stenciled eyebrow. “Uh…shopping?”

“Great, _another_ one.” Tiffanie stabbed at her salad with more aggression needed for lettuce. “Even the dead guys won’t leave us alone.”

Dash feigned innocence. “What? What’d I do?”

Tiffanie sighed. “Nothing, Dash. We just had a run-in with some sleazy ghost at _Abby’s_.”

“What! Who?” He punched into his palm. “I’ll pulverize him!”

The girls all swiveled their heads with identical expressions of incredulity. 

Dash deflated. “Well…it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“You guys okay?” Kwan asked. 

Paulina waved the question away. “Ugh. It’s fine; it was just that ghost with the long hair and the leather jacket-”

“And the girlfriend.” Tiffanie said.

“Yeah,” Paulina sighed. “And her. At first I was all grateful ‘cause she boxed her boyfriend’s ears and chewed him out in front of the whole store, but then she sees me and is like, ‘Oh, you look familiar. Did I used to wear you?’ Like I’m a cheap blouse, or something!”

Star stroked the side of her arm. “No way you’d be a _cheap_ blouse, ‘lina.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet.”

“I don’t see any shopping bags on you,” Tiffanie noted. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Helping out Wes.” Dash said.

 _“AH! Not_ now _, Kwan!”_

“He’s having a hard time,” Dale explained. 

* * *

“Is that Foley?”

Wes looked up from the bag of vinyl records from his dad’s favorite old-dude bands and followed the direction Dash was pointing.

It _was_ Foley, set up at a kiosk between the guy selling custom iphone cases and a woman with racks of seasonal-themed calendars. Somehow, he spotted them through the throng of busy shoppers texting and talking and wrangling wild children and waved them over. 

“Hey guys!” 

Curious, the bulk of the gang followed- Wes trailing behind reluctantly. 

“Hi Tucker!” Kwan waved back. “I didn’t know you had a job!”

“Of a sort,” He spread out his arms, showing off the t-shirt that matched the logo on the kiosk behind him. “Welcome to The Amity Emporium! It’s a little business I run with a couple of my internet buddies. Usually we’re all online, but I managed to score a permit to sell in the mall for the holidays.”

The girls- and Kwan- and already drifted towards the shirts and were raising them up to their chests appraisingly. Tucker shot over to them, smooth as any salesman. “I see you spotted our custom shirts- they’re our specialty. Interested in some Fenton Works merchandise?”

Paulia recoiled at the hideous neon-orange shirt with the old-man face. “Ugh. Total swipe left.”

“Yeah I figured. Why do I even have these things?” He threw the Jack Fenton-themed shirts, hats, and laser-keychains aside. “How about…something from our town’s favorite ghost hero! I got Danny Phantom t-shirts, traditional black and a number of choice palette swaps.” He showed off Phantom shirts in white, blues, greens, even purples and pinks. “I got Phantom beanies, armbands…”

“What about these?” Star held up a shirt with the Phantom logo and some extra text that looked almost scribbled on. _‘It’s with an **i** ’_

“I was sorta forced to make those.”

Kwan raised his hand. “Do you have…uh…boxers?”

“I wish I could say that was my first request for Danny Phantom underwear. Sorry, still working on the boxer, panty, and boyshort lines.”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Paulina said. “The idea of Foley selling underwear or me actually wanting to _buy_ some.”

Dash hesitantly began. “Do you have any ‘It’s Not Gay If He’s-”

“Sold out,” Tucker said immediately.

“Aw, man.”

“If you’re all Phantom-ed out, he’s not the only ghost in town. You interested in classic Ember™ shirts? Hats? Come on, how many people can say their favorite musician has tried to kill them before? Ooohh, I got a new one right now, it’s been selling like hotcakes!” He unfolded a black shirt with the glowing green skeletons that made up Pariah Dark’s army. “’ _I Survived the Amity Park Skeleton War._ ’ Really proud of this one.”

Tiffanie frowned. “I still have nightmares from when those things broke into my house.” She dug into her purse. “How much for a women’s small?”

“For you guys, half-off.” Tucker waggled his eyebrows.

“You’re giving me a discount, so I’m _not_ going to kick you in the balls with my stilettos for that- but it was a close thing.”

Tucker accepted her cash, handed her the shirt, and took two steps quickly back. “My future children thank you.”

“If this is all done online- I’ll take that Skulker shirt, large please-” Dale said as an aside. “How do you deliver things if you have to worry about the ghost with the UPS fetish?”

“The Box Ghost? Turns out he only operates in Amity’s zip code.” Tucker swiped Dale’s credit card through the reader on his phone and handed him a glow-in-the-dark shirt with Skulker’s outline that said: ‘TO THE HUNT!’ “So I got a PO Box right over the Elmerton border and just deliver the stuff myself. You guys should try it, it’s a really useful loophole in the whole ‘ghost territory’ thing. I used it for all my Christmas shopping too.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Star said. “Thanks Tucker!”

“No problem. Can I get anything for you?”

“Is that ghost pepper spray real?” She pointed at the little rack of keychains behind him. 

“Fentonworks Original.” Tucker grabbed a few vials to pass out. “I can personally guarantee they work on guys both alive and dead- which I checked in several _hilarious_ quality control tests I can’t really get into.”

“Shut up and take our money.” Paulina threw her card at him.

“How about you, Wes?” Tucker said. “You look like a man who still has some last-minute gifts to get.”

“I don’t think my mom would go for any of this stuff,” Wes eyed the merchandise. “And I’m not really a big fan of ghosts, either.”

“Dude, this is _Amity_ ,” Tucker gestured around the mall with milling shoppers, ghost-warning signs, and lurking government agents in white suits. “I’m pretty sure no one around here are fans of ghosts. Hell, most of our adolescence was hormones, homework, and fleeing for our lives.” He nodded at his kiosk. “You either embrace it, or it’s gonna drive you crazy.”

“Yeah, Wes,” Paulina smirked at her new Desiree shirt, ‘NO MAN MAY LAY A HAND ON ME UNLESS I **_WISH_** IT.’ “If you can’t beat ‘em…”

“Merchandise it,” Tucker finished running her card through and handed it back. “Besides, most ghosts aren’t really _that_ bad, when you get to know them.”

Wes rolled his eyes. “I’ll take your word for-” He froze. 

Tucker looked at him, waiting for him to finish. Then he noticed that everyone one else in the vicinity of his kiosk- even his neighbors Fouad the Phone Guy and Leslie, had gone very, very still.

“There’s a ghost behind me, isn’t there.” Tucker said, already knowing the answer.

_“Hey nerd.”_

Sighing, Tucker turned around. Ember was floating a few feet from him, shopping bags hanging off of one arm while she held up one of his shirts with the other. “How much for the Ember merch?”

“Uh…for you? They’re-”

“Haha, just kidding. I’m stealing it.” She shoved a few shirts and hats into her bags. “Do you know if there’s any good Outdoorsy places around here? I’m trying to get something for Skulker as a peace offering. Things have been kind of strained since we broke up, y’know?”

“Yeah, he’s been really grouchy lately. I think there’s a Cabela’s down the street?”

“Perfect,” She glanced around at all the terrified humans and waved, “Merry Christmas, fleshbags!” before going intangible and flying up through the mall’s ceiling.

Tucker adjusted his glasses nonchalantly. “See? What’d I say? They’re not that bad.” He frowned and took out his phone. “I should probably call ahead and warn Cabela’s, though.”

“Oh second thought,” Wes grabbed a can of Fenton Ghost-Repellent and a ‘BEWARE’ shirt. “Mom’ll learn to like it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Dale and Tiffanie are real characters. Check the wiki. 
> 
> After a few years I can only imagine that all of the Amity Park's people would just sort of...get used to the ghost attacks. Maybe even start developing this weird relationship with the ghosts. After all, most of them run around screaming their name and monologuing. Kind of hard not to get to know them, even on a base level. Some are probably liked more than others.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
